Carrots, Carrots!
by Rosa Cotton
Summary: INCOMPLETE A name spoken in jest hinders Gilbert’s attempt to become Anne’s friend. Chapter 3: Carrots: Wavering yet Withholding
1. Carrots: Name Calling

Disclaimer: _Anne of Green Gables_, all characters, places, and related terms belong to L. M. Montgomery and Sullivan Entertainment.

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Carrots, Carrots!

Chapter 1: Carrots: Name Calling

Gilbert Blythe paused in his reading to stare at the girl sitting across the aisle from him. Her blazing red-carrot hair was in the usual two braids, allowing him a good view of her profile.

He would not have exactly called her pretty, with her countless freckles and red hair; but there was something sort of dreamy about her, and she had such large grey green eyes that Gilbert was very intrigued by her. Here was a girl very different from the other girls of Avonlea.

_Anne Shirley_, he thought to himself, _Anne with an "e."_ He couldn't help smiling as he recalled her words to Mr. Phillips about the spelling of her name.

His smile faded a bit, though, as the girl stayed bent over her book, either unaware of his stare or simply ignoring him. He folded up a small piece of paper into a ball. Checking to make sure Mr. Phillips was occupied with helping Prissy Andrews in the back of the classroom, Gilbert tossed the ball of paper into Anne's lap. Diana Barry, seated next to her, looked over at him before glancing at her friend. But Anne still did not turn her head towards him.

Gilbert was now feeling a bit frustrated at his unsuccessful attempts to make her look at him; indeed she should look at him! He had never had trouble getting a girl's attention before. He started folding up another piece of paper and then paused. Why not do what he had done to all the other girls? A triumphant light filled his eyes. Now Miss Anne Shirley would surely pay attention to him!

A smug smile tugging on the corners of his mouth, he leaned across the aisle, tugged on one of the red braids, and hissed, "Carrots, Carrots!"

His trick worked, though not producing the desired effect. The words had barely left Gilbert's mouth when Anne was on her feet and glared down at him, fury in her eyes, a great contrast to the shy girl he had first spotted at one of the Sunday picnics. And unconsciously he shrank under her glare.

_"How dare you!" _she shouted in a loud voice.

And then he winced in surprise as she slammed her slate down on his head, breaking it into pieces! For a moment he stared at Anne in disbelief; she returned his gaze, her anger replaced by shock.

"Anne Shirley! What is the meaning of this?" Mr. Phillips demanded sternly, quickly coming up to them.

"It was my fault, sir," Gilbert said, his eyes wavering between his teacher and Anne. "I was teasing her."

But he was spared any punishment for his part; Mr. Phillips placed Anne in front of the blackboard where she stayed the rest of the day, and wrote on it one hundred times, "Anne Shirley has a very bed temper."

Gilbert felt guilty for getting Anne into trouble, for it really was his entire fault. But he had no idea she would take his name calling so sorely. He had not meant any harm; he had just wanted to talk to her. He was determined to make it up to her, and so he waited outside the schoolhouse when she was kept after class.

Eventually she came out, her face tired and glum. She allowed Diana to take one of her arms, and they started to leave the school yard. Gilbert quickly went after them.

"Anne, wait!" he called, and the girls stopped. Diana glanced at him, but Anne looked forward. Feeling uncertain, he went on, "I'm sorry for teasing you about your hair. Don't be mad at me for keeps."

The girl with grey green eyes looked at him only once: her face stern and a little pale, her eyes hard and full of renewed anger. No words were uttered. Her face spoke of her refusal to accept his apology. She turned her face away from him and walked on, her head up high. She did not give him one backwards glance.

Gilbert stared after her, amazed. She had not forgiven him and apparently _would_ be mad at him for keeps. It now would be a lot harder than he had thought to get to know her.

Several of his friends called to him, and he went off with them. But while the boys joked with each other, his thoughts stayed centered on one Anne Shirley.

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TBC… 


	2. Carrots: Old Thorn

Chapter 2: Carrots: Old Thorn

Gilbert heard the sound first: two voices of laughter ringing in the air, both having grown very familiar to him. He peeked around a tree to see Anne and Diana standing on "their" bridge. Even though he was a good distance away, he could tell they were smiling, and a smile touched his own face as he watched. A pang of longing hit him. How many times he wished he could have a similar friendship with Anne where they were not rivals and they could talk civilly and joke together. But Anne was determined to be mad at him for keeps.

Suddenly, Gilbert realized Anne was looking straight at him, her smile vanishing and her laughter dying. Embarrassed at being caught watching, he stepped behind the tree. He heard the girls exchange some words. Then it grew quiet.

With a sigh he leaned his back against the tree and put his hands in his pants pockets. _Carrots, Carrots!_ the name jeered in his head. He could still remember the incident as though it had happened yesterday. Anne, too, could no doubt recall every detail. It was an old thorn he could not get rid of. The name stood as a great wall, thick and unbreakable, between Anne and him.

He had heard somewhere that when you were unable to have something, the more you thought about it and desired it. Well, it was true for him. He had been interested in Anne since setting eyes on her. Her stubbornness to ignore him simply increased his determination to win her friendship someday.

Gilbert laughed humorlessly. His friends had laughed at him. Friendship! They knew, as did nearly everyone in school, that he was sweet on Anne and would like nothing more than to be her sweetheart. The boys thought he was wasting his time on pining after her, though.

"She has been downright rude to you, throwing your attempts to be polite back in your face. I say she is too prideful to you to forgive you and be your _friend_," Moody had once said with a smirk. "She looks down her nose at a lot of us. I say forget her! Josie has been dead gone on you for years; take her for a sweetheart."

Yet Gilbert did not have eyes for Josie or any of the other girls. Yes, he had at times been embarrassed by Anne snubbing him in front of their classmates. But her indifference did not discourage him. He kept trying to break down the grudge that was between them.

He was called hopeless by his friends for refusing to take part in their schemes when they picked on the girls, particularly Anne. He would not gain her friendship by teasing her. And she did not deserve to be treated like that.

_What will it take?_ he wondered. _What will it take to remove this thorn? What will it take for her to allow us to be friends?_

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TBC..._  
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	3. Wavering yet Withholding

Chapter 3: Carrots: Wavering yet Withholding

Gilbert brought the skiff up to shore. Anne had already risen from her seat before the boat stopped and climbed to the front, squeezing around him, and leaped onto the shore and started to walk away briskly. She did not desire to spend any more time than necessary with him.

"You're most welcome," the boy, a little annoyed, called after her. He scrambled to get out of the boat and followed after her. He would detain her.

She turned to him, her expression far from thankful. "I am grateful for your assistance, Mr. Blythe, even though it was not required." She shivered as a breeze blew; her hair, which looked stringy and auburn, swayed back and forth.

If it had been any other girl than Anne Shirley, Gilbert mused, she would thank him very much and secretly view him as a knight rescuing a maiden in distress. "It was so romantic!" she would sigh to her friends, hands clasped to her chest, eyes turned up to the skies. She would retell over and over again how he had come to help her in his father's skiff. And she would hope, deep down inside, that he would take more notice of her.

But the girl he had rescued from being stranded on the piling of the bridge – of all things – was Anne Shirley. (Any other girl of Avonlea would never get herself into such a strange predicament.) And he must suffer no sincere gratitude for his good deed from his Anne.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to find my friends. They are likely overcome with fear for my life," Anne ended dramatically.

Gilbert stepped closer. "Well, Anne, wait," he said before she could go off. "Wait a minute. I was just down at the post office to see if the Queens results had been printed," he explained, digging around in his pockets for the important paper. It was the excuse he had come up with to use the next time he ran into her, though he had not expected that meeting to occur here or so soon.

Anne's eyes narrowed at him. She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. "Congratulations on coming first, Gilbert. I'm sure you're very proud of your achievements." He looked at her, pausing in his search. She sounded civil enough; yet he sensed disappointment in her words as well.

Did she really think he would rub it in her face if he beat her? The boy was brought out of his thoughts when his Anne spun on her heel to march away. Quickly he reached out and grasped her arm. What was he going to do with her?

"Wait a second, you ninny," he protested with a small smile, pulling the newspaper clipping from his pocket. "We tied for first place. You and I. I figured you'd have it for sure. We all passed – our entire class." He handed her the paper.

He watched as Anne's indifference changed to amazement and excitement as she read. "First of all two hundred?" she breathed, eyes wide.

Tilting his head to the side, Gilbert tried to catch her gaze. "I'm sorry you had to share it with me," there was no secret malice in the quiet words.

"I never expected to beat you," she confessed, in a sort of defeated manner. She returned the paper to him without meeting his gaze.

Gilbert slowly took it back. Anne did not seem sore at their tying for first. Nor did she seem boastful. An unexpected feeling of hope rose in him. Maybe he could ask her. Maybe her answer would be different this time.

Steadily watching her, he asked, "Can't we be friends now? This childishness has gone on long enough, don't you think?"

Surprised, the girl met his hopeful gaze. She looked slightly puzzled, then thoughtful. Her gaze searched his. Something about her expression made him certain his question was not scorned. A strange light entered her large grey-green eyes. He felt for a moment she would shake hands with him, putting her offenses against him behind her, and they could start anew. And maybe become… But something, maybe the desire to cling to her childish pride and stubbornness, caused her to straighten; and the promising light in her eyes vanished, replaced by dark clouds.

"The fact that you rescued me unnecessarily hardly wipes out past wrongs," she replied, the crossroads-moment past and discarded.

Past wrongs! Gilbert fought to keep his growing frustration at bay. "Look, I'm sorry I ever said anything about your hair. You have no idea how sorry. But it was so long ago. Aren't you ever going to forgive me?"

Anne looked away for a moment and then back at him. "You hurt my feelings excruciatingly." Her face was blank, her tone calm, concealing her thoughts and feelings.

"I only said it because I—" Gilbert's voice faltered. He had not admitted to anyone why he had teased her that first time. No one knew how struck he'd been when he saw her for the first time, taking part in the three-legged race with Diana. "Because I wanted to meet you so much," he admitted, blushing lightly. He had never wanted to make a girl's acquaintance as much as he had with Anne.

A light flickered in Anne's eyes at his confession, but the boy was not allowed to ponder over it. "Why did you turn your back on me at the Christmas ball?" was her next question in that same calm tone.

"Anne, that was over a year ago!" he exclaimed. He remembered the ball clearly. He had thought Anne the prettiest girl there. Her blue dress had made her carrot-red hair glow and her eyes stand out. He had not realized how pretty she was until that night.

"It was a deliberate humiliation," she accused him, looking a little angry.

"And I knew exactly what you were thinking, too, Anne Shirley. You and Diana Barry." It was Gilbert's turn to become upset. Yes, he had known exactly Anne and Diana's little game. He would indeed have liked to dance with Anne; but she would have just turned him down to prove her remaining sore towards him. So he had decided it was time she had a taste of her own medicine.

Sighing, he looked at the girl before him, the fight going out of him. "Look, can we be friends now?" he asked again.

Anne's expression grew cold as she backed away from him. "Why don't you figure it out, if you're so clever?" she retorted before walking off.

Gilbert called after her, "Anne, wait a minute!"

"Everyone will think I've drowned," was tossed over the girl's shoulder. Then she broke into a run and swiftly vanished from sight.

The boy did not go after her. Nothing would work out if he did. He could only continue to wait. And console himself with the knowledge that for a moment Anne almost accepted his offer to be friends. Just for a second she had wavered.


End file.
